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The Goal

Page 45

   


I can’t imagine why. The fucking perverted bastard needs a fist in his face and a boot up his ass, but I don’t want to bring him into the equation. I’ve got a whole series of events planned out and they don’t include spending a second on that dickhole.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about your stepdad,” I admit, “but I figured since it’s the holidays and I didn’t get you a present, that we’d do something different. Why don’t you get in?”
She swings her keys around again and then tosses them over to me. “You drive. I’m tired.”
I catch them easily and unlock the doors. Reaching in, I push the seat back so I’m not driving with my knees around my neck.
Sabrina climbs into the passenger seat. “Where are we going?”
“Downtown.”
“Oooh, sounds like a mystery. I like mysteries.”
And I’d like to eat you up. I stare at her mouth for way too long before giving myself a mental head slap and putting the car in drive.
“How was everything? You feeling better?”
“I’m okay. It comes and goes. Nana is better, though, so I figure I just need to sweat it out a few more days and I’ll have worked the bug out of my system.”
I stretch my arm across the car and slip my hand behind her head. It’s been a long time since I’ve touched her, and I need this small connection.
“You want me to take you to a doctor?” I offer.
“Do I look that terrible?”
“No, you’re gorgeous, but you said you’ve been sick,” and you feel fragile—like brittle glass—under my hand, “And I want to take care of you.”
“No, I don’t want to go to a doctor.”
“Is it the cash? Because if you don’t want me to cover it, we could go to Hastings to the campus clinic.”
She shakes her head, a slow roll back and forth on my palm. I slide my grip lower to massage her neck, and she moans. The sound goes straight to my neglected cock.
“I’ve got insurance. I just need to rest,” she insists. “And it’s Sunday tomorrow, which means I get to spend the whole day bumming around and doing nothing.”
I decide not to push the issue. “What a coincidence. That’s my plan.”
This time when our eyes meet, her gaze is as hot as mine. I punch the gas a little harder than I intend to.
“A hotel?” she squawks when I pull up in front of the Fairmont ten minutes later.
I grin. “Merry belated Christmas.”
The valet reaches her side and opens the door. I hop out and round the front bumper, thanking him as I throw him the keys. This is all costing me a pretty penny, but I don’t care. Nor do I care that the doorman is smirking at Sabrina’s outfit and our car. He probably thinks I’m going to get ripped off by bringing a hooker back to my room.
“Your present is at my house,” she says mournfully as I join her on the sidewalk.
Draping an arm around her back, I gently push her forward. “You can give it to me tomorrow during our bumming-around time.”
“Deal.”
I lead her directly to the elevators and then stare at the digital display so I don’t attack her in the lobby of this swanky hotel.
“I’m pretty sure everyone here thinks I’m a prostitute,” she says dryly.
“If they do, it’s because that’s the only way someone as hot as you is allowing me to put my grubby mitts all over your body.”
“Bullshit, but that’s a nice compliment.”
“I’d kiss you right now, but since I haven’t seen you in ten days, I’d probably lose control and try to hump you in the lobby.”
“I can wait.” She stares pointedly at the bulge in my jeans. “Although, from the outline of your monster, my guess is that no one would be surprised.”
The dinging of the elevator doors covers my growl, but judging by the smirk that spreads across Sabrina’s face, I can tell she hears it.
We get off on the fourth floor. I barely make it inside the room before I have her pressed up against the door, my tongue inside her mouth, my hands pushing open her coat to grope her tits.
She moans, but it’s not a cry of passion.
Instantly, I drop my hands. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She quickly draws me back against her. “My boobs are extra sensitive for some reason.”
I run my hands down her sides. “Then I’ll be extra tender tonight.” I allow her to tug me in for another kiss before backing off. Reaching down, I adjust myself. “Give me a minute, darlin’. I didn’t plan to attack you the minute I saw you, but, hell, you know you drive me crazy.”
“Same.” She swipes a palm across her forehead, and her hand looks mighty shaky to me.
I wonder if part of it’s from hunger. “Why don’t you sit down?” I gesture toward the little couch against the wall.
Sabrina nods and walks farther into the room. Meanwhile, I press the heel of my hand against my cock and order myself to act like I’ve had sex before.
“How much did this cost?” She collapses on the loveseat and looks around in dismay.
“It’s nothing,” I assure her. “The guy who owns this joint is a Briar alum. He gives us a special rate. Don’t tell the NCAA.”
“Is that even a violation?”
“Don’t know. I’m operating under the don’t ask, don’t tell policy.”
“Gotcha.” She slips off her shoes and folds her coat over the arm of the couch, leaving her wearing only her tiny shorts and the bra.
God, she’s the hottest thing on the planet.
“What’s that?” she asks, her gaze landing on the gift-wrapped box sitting on the center of the bed.
“Your present.” I had checked in earlier and left her gift in the room. Reaching out, I swipe the package off the bedspread and join her on the sofa. “Happy holidays.”
Her face lights up as she takes the box from me. I lean back and watch. I can’t wait to see her face when she opens it.
“What is this?” she asks warily. “It feels expensive.”
I snicker. “You can tell whether it’s expensive or not based on how much it weighs?”
“Of course. The heavier it is, the more it costs.” She bites her lip. “I hope you didn’t spend a fortune on me.”